Not a Couple
by time-converges
Summary: They are so *not* a couple. Except maybe they are. Doctor/Donna Follow-up chapter added
1. Not a Couple

"A nice romantic table for two?" the hostess asked, smiling at them.

"Oh, no, we're not a couple," the Doctor and Donna said together, shaking their heads.

The hostess looked sceptical, but continued smiling. "Just a table for two, then?"

"That would be fine," Donna said, taking the Doctor's arm as they walked through the restaurant. He pulled out her chair for her to sit, and they both glanced over the menu. "Mmm, everything looks wonderful," she said.

"I think the chef is famous for his pasta, if I remember rightly," the Doctor said. "I think you'd like the fettucini."

"That does sound good. Are you getting the spaghetti?"

"Oh, probably. It's always good here," he said, putting his menu aside.

Donna closed her menu, taking a moment to look around the restaurant. "This is lovely," she said, smiling across the table at him.

The waiter approached. "Good evening. Out for a special occasion?" he asked.

"No, just dinner," Donna answered.

He nodded, told them the specials and took their orders.

"Why does everyone think we're a couple?" Donna asked.

"It does seem to happen a lot, doesn't it," he replied. "They just assume, I guess."

"Hmph," Donna said. "Well, I suppose it's better than being your assistant."

"My assistant?" he raised his eyebrows.

"The plucky young girl who helps me out?" she quoted. "Agatha Christie? Giant Wasp? Remember?"

"Ah, yes," he said, rubbing his chin. "I'd rather hoped you had forgotten about that."

It was risky talking about that, because of the incident in the kitchen afterwards, but she kept on. "Do you think of me that way? Just as someone who 'helps you out?'"

"Well, not if you make it sound bad," he said. "You do help me, after all. But that's not how I think of you." He moved his hand to cover hers where it rested on the table.

"Well, good then." At least he had said "young." "Next time you can be my assistant."

"Just as you say," he said, smiling. He moved his hand as their drinks and bread basket arrived. He passed her the basket first.

Their dinners soon arrived, and they ate in companionable silence for awhile.

"So, where are we off to next?" Donna asked.

He reached across and stole a bite from her plate. "Mmmm, that is good," he said. "I was thinking Aurelia Major. There's an art exhibition I thought would be fun. Plus, they have some lovely shops. Here, you should try this," he said, offering her a bite from his fork.

"Mmmm, that is good," Donna agreed, dabbing at her mouth with the napkin. "Well, as long as there are shops, the exhibition sounds fun."

They shared a slice of chocolate cake for dessert, and were soon walking down the street, her arm through his again. He suddenly stopped short, looking at her with amusement. "You know, I think I know why people think we are a couple."

"You do?" she said.

"It's probably stuff like this," he said, gesturing at their linked arms.

She grinned. "And all the handholding."

"And the hugging," he added, rubbing her other arm with his hand. He seemed to be standing very close to her. The arm she had looped through his had moved to his waist, seemingly without her thinking about it.

"Maybe we should stop, then," she said, her voice soft.

"Oh, that seems drastic, don't you think?" he said, stepping even closer, lifting his hand to brush against her cheek.

"Well, if we're giving people the wrong idea," she said, looking down, suddenly shy.

"Are we?" he tilted her chin up so she was looking at him.

"Are we what?" she asked. She couldn't seem to form a complete thought. He was taking up all her space, all her air. What was he saying?

"Are we giving them the wrong idea?"

"We're not a couple," she said, automatically.

"Maybe we should be," he said, and he was kissing her. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, sliding her hands under his coat as he pulled her closer. She was lost to the feel of his lips on hers, his hands on her back. They pulled apart when someone from a passing car called out, "Get a room!"

He tucked her arm through his again, covering her hand with his and grinning. "May I assist you back home, Ms. Noble?" he asked.

"You may," she said, smiling back at him.

_A/N: The first idea for this came from nschick, from a comment to one of the Moments to Reflect at doctordonna. It took a bit of a sideways turn, though. The ending is for lilianvaldemyer, who wanted more "ginger kisses."_


	2. I Could Get Used to This

The Doctor unlocked the TARDIS door, and let Donna go in before him. She turned toward him, watching as he secured the door, remembering the feel of his lips on hers, out there in the street. "You do think of this as home, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

He grinned, then dashed for the console, running around it with his usual manic energy. Donna leaned against the railing, watching him indulgently as he set the controls to put them into the vortex. He checked the viewscreen, then turned to her again.

"So," he said.

"So." She held out her hand to him, and he took it, stepping close to her. She felt awkward and unsure, and laughed a little nervously.

He laughed, too. "You know, not much will change."

"No?"

"No. You'll still argue with me, and I'll still burn the toast," he said.

"Well, that's a relief. We'll have to get used to not denying we're a couple, though."

"True, there is that. But I could get used to this," he said, leaning down to brush his lips across hers.

"And I could get used to this," she said, pulling his head down to kiss him more firmly, sucking his lower lip gently.

"Mmm, and this," he murmured against her lips as she parted them to let his tongue sweep into her mouth, sliding along hers deliciously.

"Mmm," she agreed, raking her fingernails across his chest lightly over his shirt.

"Oh, that's rather nice," he agreed, his voice a little unsteady. He pressed a kiss to her neck, and she could feel her pulse quicken as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

"Oh, yes," she said, and she felt his tongue against her skin as he trailed his mouth over her shoulder, pushing her blouse out of the way. Oh, he was good at that, she thought. She felt his hands on the buttons of her blouse, and she was trying to loosen his tie, and they both laughed as they got tangled up together.

"Maybe we should—" he said.

"Yeah," she agreed, tugging on his tie as they staggered down the corridor toward the bedroom.

He stopped and pressed her against the wall, his hands sliding under her blouse.

"Your room or mine?" she whispered as she sucked his earlobe into her mouth.

"Whichever's closest," he said, desperately, pushing his knee between hers.

"Impatient, are we?" She laughed as she wriggled out of his grasp, pulling him along with her toward her room. She opened the door, which was much closer than she remembered it being, and stopped just inside the doorway. It was her room, or at least, her things were there. But the bed was different, as were the lamps, and it appeared that his things were also there, intermingled with hers.

"Our room it is, then," he said, laughing as he pulled her into his arms again.

Much later, as they lay together, limbs entwined, her head on his chest, his hand lightly stroking her arm, she decided she could definitely get used to this.


End file.
